


Contract Negotiation for Mindless Dolls

by ThrallofPentacles



Series: The Summoner's Transformation [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: (consensual & temporary) mindbreak, 24/7 BDSM, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Body Modification, Breast Expansion, Breeding, Collars, Coming Untouched, Creampie, Degradation, Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Free Use, Gangbang, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Master/Slave Roleplay, Mind Control, Misgendering, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Past Body Modification, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safewords, Slut-Shaming, Some pain, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, a bit of crying, a bit of drool, a bit of pussy spanking, a little bit of praise kink, afab language, altered mental state, cis man with a vagina, cis man with breasts, demon contracts, fucktoy, references to future mpreg, that bit is in the first chapter, the second is all smut, truly excessive amounts of come, words like stupid used as degradation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrallofPentacles/pseuds/ThrallofPentacles
Summary: After a year and a day of waiting, Dylan finally resummons Zin, the incubus who changed his life. Except this time, he's not sure he can take another gap like that. He wants to belong to the demon, as fully and completely as he can.Luckily for him, Zin has a contract prepared.
Relationships: Incubus/Summoner, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Summoner's Transformation [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006842
Comments: 7
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

On the night of reckoning, Dylan slipped into his own apartment like a burglar.

Though... not a very competent one. He still wasn't anywhere near used to his own chest, which had been growing ever since the incubus he'd summoned, Zin, had cursed him exactly a year and a day ago. Just yesterday his breasts had swelled well beyond ordinary human proportions, to the point where he'd had to half-drown himself in a hoodie big enough to fit an entire family just to walk home without anyone noticing. He kept overbalancing, and could hardly stand without keeping a hand out to brace himself on a wall.

Luckily he hadn't had to walk far, since M, the man he'd been staying with in the meantime, had offered to order him a taxi. He stumbled through the main doors, drew his hood even lower over his face, and ducked into the elevator as fast as he possibly could. Even with the doorman asleep as usual, Dylan barely managed to make it to his own front door without tripping down the stairs and waking up the entire complex.

From there, he made a beeline for the book. The page that would resummon the incubus was already earmarked. Dylan worked feverishly, his pussy throbbing in anticipation, his hands shaking so badly he could hardly draw the magic circle. He left out the salt entirely. Its only purpose was to contain the demon within the circle, and he didn't want that. He wanted Zin to be able to do whatever he wanted to him.

Finally, all that was left was to wait. Last time, he'd summoned Zin at midnight because... well, when  _ else  _ was he supposed to do it? He watched the last seconds tick away, took a deep breath, and finished the spell.

Smoke billowed up from the sigil on the floor. His insides fluttered as it started to coalesce, turning a deep red as it solidified into the shape of a man. Tall and broad, his skin glossy and, Dylan remembered, smooth and hot to the touch. It went on for what seemed like forever, from the tips of his toes to the finely sculpted angles of his face. Ink-black hair tumbled down his shoulders, and a pointed tail curled behind him.

Without ever consciously deciding to, Dylan fell to his knees. He kept his shoulders back, letting his breasts jut out as he presented himself to the incubus. "Master..."

Zin stood over him, his eyes fixed on his bulging chest. Dylan could almost feel the heat of his gaze. His nipples stiffened. "Look at  _ that,"  _ the demon purred. "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay completely flat, but you didn't even try to fight it. Did you, slut?"

"No, master."

"You were so desperate for cock, you didn't care what it was doing to you. Did you?"

Dylan shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor as his face flushed.

"What does that make you? Hm?"

"I'm a dirty girl," Dylan whispered.

"I can't hear you."

"I'm a nasty girl," he said, his cunt pulsing with shame. "A dirty slut who can't control her horny pussy."

"That's right." Zin stepped closer, so that he was standing over Dylan with his hardening cock just inches from his face. He stared at it, his mouth falling open as he let himself go slack, until drool dribbled down his chin. "Look at you. So much more honest, now. You know exactly what you want. What you're good for. Don't you?"

"I'm your toy!" Dylan raised his head so that he could look up into the demon's face. "I... I need to be your toy." He hadn't planned to say it, but the thought of enduring another year away from Zin was already making his insides churn. "I can't do that again," he admitted. "The waiting. I need to belong to you, master. Please..."

"I can only manifest in your world for so long," said Zin. "And a human like you could not survive the plane where I came to be. However..." He smirked and produced a scroll from thin air with a flourish. "There is a solution."

Dylan took the parchment eagerly and started to read. By the second sentence, he was already squirming. It wasn't very long—there was only one concession listed for each of them. Zin was forbidden from preventing Dylan from speaking his true name and releasing himself from the demon's magic by any means. Dylan's end of the bargain was even simpler. Any command the incubus gave him, he would obey.

"I have wanted to escape my home plane for some time," the incubus explained. "But to do that, I need power. As a cubus, I take it from willing humans. This can allow me to escape for a few hours at a time... but with a constant source, I can extend it even farther. These days, I only need to return to the pit once every seven days."

"I'm not the first," Dylan realized.

"No." The incubus smirked. "I've been establishing myself in another world for some time. Its boundaries are weaker than your own, and its inhabitants are... less prone to dissecting new and strange phenomena."

He stroked the contract with his thumb, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "Would I have to stay there forever?"

Zin snorted. "Of course not. Do you know how hard it is to find a thrall willing to agree to  _ that? _ My name would act as your bridge—speak it in this reality, and it will take you to me. Speak it there, and it will bring you home." He gave Dylan a sly sideways look, like he already knew the answer even before he asked, "Well? Are my demands too much for you?"

Dylan flushed. He knew he probably shouldn't say it, but... "I don't care what your demands are. I would have done anything."

"Not a very wise thing to tell a demon, you know."

"I know." Dylan accepted a raven feather quill from Zin and signed his name right under the demon's. "But I was wondering if..." he trailed off, swallowing a surge of embarrassment.

"There's really no need for that," Zin pointed out. "I always know what you want."

"Then...?"

"I'm still going to make you say it."

Dylan looked away, fighting the urge to cover his face. "Could we pretend I did? That... that there weren't any safeguards, when I gave myself to you?"

Zin's grin sharpened. "My dear," he purred, "I wouldn't want it any other way."


	2. Chapter 2

In a blink, his apartment was gone. Dylan was sitting on a gigantic bed draped in rich, wine-red fabrics. The only other furniture in the room, besides a candle and a sinfully soft carpet, was a padded bar set into the wall at about waist height. "This my castle," Zin said, gesturing with one arm. "Or, well, the only part of it you'll be seeing for some time." He started to laugh.

"Master? What's so funny?" Dylan blurted, even as he felt his clit throbbing in anticipation.

"I've tricked my fair share of mortals," said the incubus. "Little loopholes, fine print that drags them kicking and screaming into my grasp. But never in all my aeons have I met a mortal foolish enough to give itself to me without the slightest bit of deceit." He reached over and grabbed one of Dylan's breasts, squeezing it so roughly that he cried out. "Were you that desperate to get my cock in that slutty pussy? Or are you just unfathomably stupid?"

Dylan moaned, arching his back into the demon's touch.

Zin shook his head and snorted. "I suppose it must be both, then. Stand up."

He'd expected the control to be a sort of pressure, building up the longer he resisted an order until it was too overwhelming to resist. Instead, his body moved as if he'd given the command himself, bending to his master's will without so much as a twitch to show that he'd fought it. Dylan gasped, and flushed as the demon started to laugh again.

"Why don't I show you how terrible a mistake you've made. Strip."

Dylan's clothes pooled on the floor at his feet, baring his enormous breasts and his sopping pussy.

"Good. Pinch your clit."

Dylan reached down and twisted himself between his fingers. He yelped, tears welling in his eyes.

"Harder."

He let out a sharp scream as the pain turned momentarily blinding. In his panic he tried to let go, but it was as if he wasn't connected to his own hand. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Let go."

Dylan released himself, panting for breath as he started to shake. "Master, please—"

"Come for me."

He let out a choked cry as his body convulsed without warning, pleasure shooting through him and driving him to his hands and knees.

"Again."

He lurched forward, his heavy breasts swinging beneath him as slick gushed down his thighs.

"Do you see what you've done, now?"

"Yes," Dylan sobbed. "I didn't realize, master, I'm sorry. Please let me—"

"Silence."

His voice died. It wouldn't prevent him from saying Zin's name, he knew—but Dylan couldn't force a single other word past his lips. He whimpered, lowering himself further to the floor, prostrating himself at the demon's feet. Pleading with his body,  _ mercy. _

"It's too late now. You've given yourself to me, and that means you have no will of your own. You exist to serve me. Understand?"   
  
Dylan nodded.

"Get up."

He rose. Zin picked up something on the bed that Dylan hadn't noticed until now—a pendent on a gold chain, with a strange symbol etched into its surface. He was startled to realize that he recognized the mark. It was one of many that he'd drawn for the summoning circle.

The incubus closed it around his neck. It was tight enough that the pendant bobbed up and down when he swallowed. "This is your collar, slut." Zin snapped his fingers. Dylan nearly doubled over as a hot, fizzy feeling spread through his lower belly, tingling and buzzing until he thought he might be sick. It stopped almost as soon as it started, leaving him sweaty and out of breath.

"You may speak."

"Wh-what...?"

"All in good time." Zin pointed to the bar and said, "Bend over."

The bar was at an awkward height—it left Dylan's feet planted firmly on the ground, but he had to put his arms out and brace himself on his elbows. His breasts hung down and pooled underneath him, his nipples stiffening as they brushed against the cold stone floor.

"That's my good girl." He moaned and wiggled his hips. The incubus reached out, casually slapping him between his legs hard enough to make him yelp. "Not so fast.  _ Grow." _

The collar around his neck grew warm, and then hot. He wriggled, crying out in surprise as he felt a familiar tingling in his breasts. Dylan looked down, his mouth falling open as they inflated even further. Before long he didn't need to brace himself at all—his front was cushioned on his chest, his own weight squeezing his breasts so hard that they ached.

"Look at those tits." Zin stepped in front of Dylan and bent down so that he could slap one. "They're so heavy, aren't they?"

As he spoke, Dylan felt the weight at his front increasing. There was no more growth, but it was as though his breasts were made of lead. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't push himself up. They held him down as surely as a set of straps.

"You've turned yourself into such a wonderful toy." Zin began to walk around him, reaching out to run his hands along Dylan's spine, over his ass, teasing down his inner thigh. "Such a good little bitch."

"Yes, master!" Dylan said eagerly. "I'm your good bitch!"

"You are. And a good bitch should be bred, shouldn't she?"

Dylan's heart jumped. "I—" he blurted. "I can't, master!"

"You couldn't," agreed Zin. He gave the collar a little tug. "Until now."

"Wait!" Dylan swallowed hard as he felt Zin's fingers slide between his folds. "Not that, master! I can't take that! I—I can still be your good bitch, only please—!

"Feel free to struggle."

Dylan gasped as Zin pushed his fingers inside. He tried to push himself up, but there was no fighting gravity. He rolled from side to side, kneading his own breasts against the ground as he squirmed. Then he felt his master's cock teasing at his entrance, rubbing up and down until it was coated in his slick.

There was nothing to do but beg. But Dylan kept getting confused. He pleaded for his master to stop, to change him back, to fuck his asshole instead. Anything that wouldn't get him pregnant. Then his pussy started to throb and he found himself saying, "I need it, please, use me master, use your dirty girl's holes!"   
  


He went limp as Zin sank inside. It felt too good, to finally be split open so perfectly, to be filled by his master. His protests turned weak and sluggish—and they had never been real protests in the first place. His pussy fluttered and clenched as the incubus started to thrust, each stroke driving him closer and closer until he couldn't control himself.

"Take me," he sobbed. "Breed me, master! Make me yours."

Zin grabbed his hips, growling as his cock jerked and spurted. His master's come was so much hotter and thicker than a human's—it made Dylan's insides tingle.

"That's my good bitch. Milk my cock."

He shuddered, his pussy pulsing and wringing another burst of come from his master. "More," he begged. "Please, I'm so close..."

Zin pulled out. The way Dylan was angled, with his ass and his pussy in the air, only a trickle of come escaped to trail down his inner thigh. His master gave his cunt another spank. "I own your body. I decide when it comes."

"I'm sorry, master!"

"I own your mind. Do you understand what that means?"

"Yes, master!"

This time the incubus slapped his pussy hard enough to make him cry out. "Liar. Let me show you, slut.  _ Get stupid." _

Dylan obeyed this order as easily and as helplessly as every other. His mind filled with fog. His thoughts slipped through his fingers like water, scattering further the harder he tried to hold on to them. He tried to protest, and all that came out was an incoherent moan. The words he needed weren't there. He couldn't string the sounds together. Only the incubus' name was spared. That one, he chose not to say. His mouth opened, and he started to drool.

Zin slid his cock between Dylan's lower lips. It was still hard, still soaked with come and slick. He spread his legs eagerly, babbling in an attempt to beg for it. His master's dick was all he could think about, all he wanted and all he needed. It slid inside, and he was happy.

"Good," his master told him, and warmth flooded his stomach. "This is what you were meant for, isn't it? To be a sweet, mindless little fuckdoll."

Dylan sagged against the bar holding him up as his master put another load inside him. The drool from his open mouth dripped down onto his swollen breasts, and he panted and squirmed on his master's cock, and it felt so good he was sure he would never want anything else ever again.

"You don't even want to come anymore, do you? You know your place."

He giggled as his master started to fuck him again, squeezing his pussy to make his master feel good. That was what he was for. He took load after load, until his master's come gushed down his legs and his cunt was sore and aching.

"You make such a good breeding bitch," his master told him. Dylan recognized the words as praise and perked up, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. "Such a dumb, eager fucktoy. I think you deserve a reward. I'm going to give you one more load, slut. One more load to make sure I've bred you nice and full. And you're going to make noise for me."

He started to move. Dylan squealed and gibbered and drooled on himself, his breath hitching into needy whines and gasps of pleasure. The world narrowed to only his dripping pussy and the perfect slide of his master's cock, in and out, using him the way he was meant to be used.

And then Zin whispered something in his ear, an order he couldn't understand, and all of a sudden he could feel that tension rising again, tying his insides into a hot, desperate knot. He cried out, trying to beg, but he didn't know what he wanted and he couldn't get any words out anyway. He could only let his shouts turn to screams and hope that he'd been good enough, that his master would give him what he needed.

"That's it," Zin told him. "Take it, bitch. Take it deep." His final load was nothing like the others. It burst out of him, filling Dylan's insides until he could feel his belly bulging against the bar. The tingling inside of him shot to his clit, and his screams reached a fever pitch as his body melted into a sea of searing heat. If he hadn't been pinned down by the weight of his own breasts, he might have fallen. As it was he could only writhe helplessly, his hands scrabbling against the floor, his legs kicking at empty air.

"Good girl," his master said, and Dylan went limp. He stayed that way, wrung-out and satisfied, as Zin worked a plug into his pussy to keep all his come inside. Then the incubus lifted him and set him down on the bed, pausing to pat his head. "Now, I think it's time you met some of your new neighbors."

Dylan whined in confusion.

"You didn't think I get the energy to stay here all by myself, did you? If it were that easy, we'd all do it. You remember your collar?" Zin gave it a light tug. "It lets me take power from you whenever anyone fucks those nasty holes of yours."

He whimpered. He didn't want to belong to just anyone—he wanted his master.

"Shh. You still belong to me, slut. But don't you want to be used some more? I never touched that dirty little asshole. Doesn't it feel so empty?"

Dylan groaned and panted, rubbing his legs together as he felt his rim start to twinge.

"You need more cock, don't you?"

He moaned agreement.

"Lie back, slut. Keep your legs spread wide. And remember... no matter who's fucking you, you're still mine. I'm the one that bred that slutty pussy."

Zin left him alone, then. It took several minutes before the first man filed in, attracted by the open door and the sign that read, Free Use. Still weighed down by his oversized breasts, Dylan could only lie there and let himself be taken. Soon there was a line outside, and he was being used at both ends. They positioned him like the doll he was—some tugging him into their laps, others bending him over the bed, all sliding their cocks into his mouth or his ass, spilling inside him, covering his face and his hair and his tits in their come.

Dylan relaxed into it. And every time he came, he felt a shiver of something leaving him. A trickle of power offered up to the incubus. So he spread himself eagerly, clenching down on everyone who took him, shuddering with delight whenever they forced another orgasm out of him—because he knew it was his master he was really serving. His master who was using him, over and over again, until his body had nothing left to give and he was left alone to sleep. He luxuriated in the feeling of being so used up. His pussy and his ass were filled to the brim, and his mind was so utterly, blissfully empty.

Sometime soon, he would use the name. Return to his world to ground himself and remember who he was. But right now, he wanted to fall into his new place. He wanted to sink into his master's ownership, and the simplicity of being a mindless toy. To forget, for a little while, that he was anything but holes to be fucked and bred.


End file.
